


A Run Ashore

by RaggedRose



Series: One of the Lads [2]
Category: Hornblower (TV)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-11
Updated: 2013-04-11
Packaged: 2017-12-08 03:52:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/756731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaggedRose/pseuds/RaggedRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This story is a sequel to my previous story, One of the Lads. That started originally as an exploration of a question-- what would Hornblower do if he found a female sailor in his division?  I hadn't finished answering it, I found. Indefatigable returns to Portsmouth and Sarah is presented with a stark choice when her past catches up with her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Run Ashore

"I hear that Doctor Hepplewhite has left us, sir." 

Pellew turned from the rail. "Yes, Mr. Hornblower, he has. The matters that forced him to take his leave left him no time to arrange for our requirements" Pellew stared out at the harbor. "So we are left without a surgeon, I fear. I have applied for another, but we might wait some time before he may be appointed." Some time in port. In summer, when prizes were to be taken and battles to be won! Ah well, it couldn't be helped. Best to put the whole noisome business behind him. He resolved not to think or speak of it again. 

Hornblower clasped his hands behind him, preparatory to speaking. "I believe I have a solution to that particular problem, sir." 

Pellew looked sharply at his young lieutenant. "Do you, now?" 

Hornblower nodded. "Yes, sir. I know an apothecary in Portsmouth-- the son of a friend of my father's, who might be a suitable replacement." Hornblower did not mention that the man was presently penniless, and needed the berth as much as Indefatigable needed a surgeon. 

"An apothecary, you say?" Pellew considered the idea. "Has he been to sea before, and does he hold the necessary certificates, do you know?" 

"Yes, sir," Hornblower answered. "That is, he does hold an apothecary's license, but he has not been to sea. He walked the wards at Haslar Hospital and passed his Board examination, however, and has a qualification. He was looking for a suitable ship when I called upon him." 

Pellew smiled. "Well, then, it seems as if we might both be in luck! Tell me, Mr. Hornblower, do you know why he wishes to go to sea? The life of a naval surgeon is by no means an easy one." 

Hornblower remembered the previous night's conversation. "Yes, sir, I do. He is a competent and honorable man, but he is newly licensed and has no practice as of yet. He sees the Navy as an adventure as well as an honest means of making a living. If he does not come to us, he will come to some other ship." 

"Ah," said Pellew. "I fear he might not find the life as attractive once he has lived it, but no matter. Mr. Hornblower, I suggest that you bring him aboard as soon as may be convenient. I should like to speak with him." 

"Aye aye, sir," Hornblower answered. "I shall go ashore at once!" 

****

James Codrington judged his moment, and jumped onto the battens going up Indefatigable's side. He climbed carefully, unused to the motion of the ship. He was aware of the spectacle he could make of himself, and did not wish to distinguish himself as clumsy, or worse, before he had even achieved the position he sought. For he must have this position! His father had made it quite clear that he could expect no further consideration from his family, now that his apprenticeship had been served. While his father had thought well of his son's choice of profession, the manner and place of his apprenticeship had caused him some concern. A naval hospital was hardly the place to form friendships which would aid a doctor in a professional life ashore. His love of the sea had also not set well at home.

When James had completed his training and presented his father with both his apothecary's license, and his qualification as a naval surgeon, he found out just how opposed to a naval career his father was. 'It is a profession for drunkards and incompetents', he had thundered. 

The words, and the pain that had accompanied them would always be written in James's mind, and on his heart. It was too late to make amends, his father had made that quite clear. He must make his own way in the world. He was determined to do that, and more. He would gain the respect of his profession, as well as that of his father. Sir James Lind had done as much, and founded Haslar Hospital as well! His contention that there were things to be learned aboard a man 'o war that could never be found on shore had fallen on deaf ears. Though it had hurt to hear his father denounce his loyalty, and his choice to serve His Majesty, James knew that to give up his dreams would be far more dishonorable. He gained the deck without mishap and waited at the entry port for Hornblower. 

He looked about the ship he hoped would become his new home. A bewildering array of ropes stretched weblike from every mast. Most were neatly coiled and hung from the sides of the ship and from racks around each mast though a few lay, also in neat coils, upon the deck for reasons he could only guess at. The decks were a clean white, and every other surface was brave with paint, or bright with varnish. The whole vessel had a cheery, well-scrubbed look. On the grating before him, a group of men were gathered around what he supposed was a sail. The huge expanse of canvas could hardly be anything else. Their needles flashed in the watery sunlight as they stitched industriously on it. Another huge white sausage of canvas stretched across the deck, bound neatly at intervals with manila cordage. Seamen were gathered around it attaching ropes that stretched from the great main yard above. Aloft, he could see other men at work, standing precariously on the footropes that hung below that yard, their hands busy at tasks he did not understand. As he looked up, one of them grabbed a backstay and slid nimbly down to the deck. 

"Welcome aboard, sir," said a voice by his side. He turned to see a young midshipman beside him. The fellow was as cheery as the rest of the ship, his blue eyes genuinely welcoming, as was the hand he had extended. 

Codrington took it. "Thank you, Mr--" 

"Kennedy, sir." 

"I'm glad to meet you, Mr. Kennedy," Codrington said. "And glad to be aboard. My name's Codrington." 

They had time for nothing more, as Mr. Hornblower hauled himself through the entry port. He pushed his hat askew in the process. He straightened his coat and jammed his cocked hat back on his head properly, touched it to the quarterdeck, then came up beside them. "Doctor Codrington, I see you've met Mr. Kennedy, would you care to come aft and meet our Captain?" 

"I'd be delighted," Codrington answered, and followed Hornblower up the steep stairway onto the raised deck in the rear of the ship. It was all so strange, and he marveled at the new sights and sounds, even as he followed his friend over the wide deck, to where the Captain stood. 

The contrast from the activity of the waist to the quiet of this, the quarterdeck--he smiled as he savored the unfamiliar term in his mind--was palpable. It was empty, save for one lone seaman polishing the brass binnacle with brick dust, and the lofty presence of Captain Pellew and another officer. They were in conversation by the rail. They turned to face the new arrivals. 

Hornblower touched his hat to the two officers. "Sir, this is Doctor Codrington, the surgeon I spoke of. Doctor Codrington, this is Captain Sir Edward Pellew, and Lieutenant Bracegirdle." 

"Delighted, I'm sure, sir," said Codrington, bowing to the man he hoped would be his new employer. Somehow it just didn't seem right to be shaking hands here on this deck. He was correct. 

Pellew returned his bow, and smiled, as did the portly lieutenant beside him. "Would you care to come below for a glass of wine, doctor? I would like to discuss Indefatigable's requirements and your qualifications, if you please." 

"Yes, I would indeed," Codrington said. 

"Mr. Bracegirdle? Would you oblige me by accompanying us?" 

"Yes, sir," the officer said. Bracegirdle walked over to the monkey rail along the forward edge of the quarterdeck. "Mr. Kennedy," he called. 

The golden-haired acting lieutenant looked up at his superior. "Sir?" 

"The deck is yours," Bracegirdle said. "I will be below with Captain Pellew if anything requires my attention." 

Kennedy touched his hat, and continued to supervise the replacement of the main course. Hornblower came to stand beside him. 

"So that's the new surgeon, Horatio?" Archie kept his eyes on his crew as he spoke. They nearly had the buntlines bent on. The sail tackle was already bent to the strop, a heavy loop of line in the center of the sail, sewn and seized to the headrope along the top. It supported the heavy weight as it was lifted up to the yard.

"I hope so," Hornblower answered. "He's eager, and has the proper papers, but he's never sailed in a King's ship before." 

He's never sailed before, you mean, "Kennedy returned. 

One side of Hornblower's mouth quirked up in a smile. "We were all new to our profession once, Archie," he said. 

"True enough, but d'you think he's ready for it? From apprentice to surgeon all at once is quite a step."

"Beggars can't be choosers," Horatio said. 

There was no more time for speech, as the preparations for lifting the huge sail were finished. Kennedy turned back to the task of getting it safely up to the yard above. 

The sail was bent on, and the old course inspected, folded, and sent down to the sail locker by the time the officers emerged again. 

"Mr. Kennedy, please lower the cutter and call away her crew," Pellew instructed. He turned to Hornblower. "Mr. Hornblower, take two seamen and accompany Doctor Codrington ashore. Pick up his dunnage and escort him back aboard." 

Soon they were clambering down the side of Indefatigable again. Codrington was aglow with his good fortune, the congratulations of Hornblower and Kennedy ringing in his ears. He had secured the berth, and at last his life would begin! His mind was filled with all the small details he would have to deal with before he could take up the posting. He watched the Indefatigable recede as the crew pulled for shore. So many things would have to be done. Mentally he inventoried his medicine chest and realized just how much there was to do. 

Sarah and Matthews pulled side by side at the two oars farthest forward. Sarah couldn't believe she was going. It had been at least a year since her feet had touched shore. She tugged on her oar, and listened to the snatches of quiet conversation that drifted forward from the sternsheets. The man was as different from Hepplewhite as any man could be. His eagerness showed in his face and in the animated way he spoke to Mr. Hornblower. It was obvious that he was looking forward to his new place, which was more than could have ever been said of Hepplewhite. The creaking of the oars in their notches and the sound of the water as they moved through it drowned most of the talk, but what she heard was unfamiliar, and fit for a doctor. Calomel, and plasters, and how many men were ill. She soon stopped trying to make sense of it. She longed to talk to Matty, but silence was the rule for a boat's crew in harbor, and she knew better than to break it, though her mind seethed with apprehensions, and questions better left unasked. Uppermost in her mind was the fear that she would be recognized and unmasked in such a way that Mr. Hornblower could no longer pretend ignorance of her masquerade. It had been some time since she had left, and few people had seen her in disguise, but Portsmouth was not so large, or the waterfront population so transient, for time and distance to keep her from seeing people who had known her when she was the wife of Paul Woods

She gazed out on the familiar harbor, and saw that they were heading for Gosport, not for Portsmouth itself. She had lived in Portsmouth, but the daily life of a waterman had taken her all over the harbor. The memories were sweet. Now that she had had some time away, the roughness of the life she had led here seemed less. The friendships had been good, and she found herself missing it all. If only Paul hadn't changed! He had filled the sky for Sarah when they had married. It had seemed the perfect partnership. He loved the sea as much as she did, and they had lived together happily at first. But the saying was true. Men of the sea rotted in port, and so it had been with Paul. The drunken wreck who had died in a tavern brawl had been Paul Woods only in name and appearance, and, like a ship honeycombed with rot, she couldn't say when the moment of no return had come. 

*****

The doctor lived in a small, unprepossessing lodging house in Gosport, across the water from Haslar Hospital. The place was clean, and tenanted mainly by the hospital's apprentices and orderlies. The landlady was a motherly and generous woman, the widow of a boatswain. She made a decent living taking in lodgers, and she soothed her broken heart by caring for them as well as she could. Hornblower noticed the air of welcome that suffused the small house as soon as he entered it. He arranged for their lodging for the night as soon as he could, and then sought out Matthews. 

“Matthews, a word if you please.” 

“Yes sir,” answered Matthews. 

“Doctor Codrington has a few items of business to attend to before he can report aboard. I have arranged to spend the night ashore while he does what is necessary. I have provided Woods and you with quarters here, but I would have no objection if you would prefer to consider yourselves at liberty until the morning.”

Matthews couldn’t believe his ears. Like the rest of the crew, his feet had not touched shore, save on ship's business, since the outbreak of the war. No captain who wished to keep his crew gave men liberty. Even a popular, if strict, captain like Pellew would not do so for fear of the desertions to follow. But Matthews was no fool either. “Thankee, sir!” He smiled and nodded. “We’ll be back in good time, to be sure!” 

Hornblower hesitated, not quite sure how to put his next request to the grizzled seaman. “Matthews, there is one thing more.” 

“Sir?” Matthews was all attention, and a bit apprehensive at the obvious discomfort of his officer. 

“It concerns Woods. We are in England, and she has done her duty in exemplary fashion.” He stopped again. 

Matthews went cold at the mention of her true sex. He waited for the rest, not trusting his tongue. 

“She need not return to Indefatigable, Matthews.” 

“Will ye inform the captain of her, sir?” He would not stop the words, though he knew that he should not question an officer, should not risk a night of leave. He had to know. Woods would ask, he knew it was not as simple a task as Mr. Hornblower made it sound. 

Hornblower studied the face before him for a long moment, and considered his answer. “No,” he said at last. He paused again. “Matthews, she has served well, and risked her life for England. But we are back in England now and a ship of war is no place for a woman, no matter how well qualified. She can go ashore and live in safety now. I will not reveal her, she has earned that, but I fear for her and would have her out of danger.” He held out two tickets of leave to the seaman. 

Matthews dared not ask more, though he wished to. "I'll take care of it, sir." He took the tickets. "Thankee, sir." 

Hornblower kept the relief from his voice. 'Thank you, Matthews." 

Matthews knuckled his forehead and went inside again. 

Woods was sitting at the table in the kitchen, and when he came through the door, the landlady was giggling at some remark the seaman had made. 

She looked up at his entrance. "Sweet young thing like Sally here's wasted in a kitchen, eh Matty?" She smiled wickedly at Sally. 

Sally, a plump woman on the edge of middle age, flicked her apron at Woods, though her smile was genuine. "La! You sailors is all the same!" 

Woods smiled back, enjoying herself thoroughly. A large plate of mutton and potatoes lay on the table in front of her beside a pewter tankard of beer. Both bore evidence of her appetite. "We all have an eye for the ladies, ye mean?" She winked. 

Sal blushed and bustled back to the stove. "And silver tongues as well." She grabbed another plate and began to fill it. "Sit ye down, John," she said, and set the plate on the table. A tankard of beer was drawn and joined it. "Eat up, and fill those sweet-talkin' holes 'o yours--d'ye think I was born yesterday?" The words were sharp, but her tone was not. 

The air of good cheer that filled the room was balm to Matthews. It reminded him of days long before he had joined the Navy. His wife's kitchen had been much the same. He smiled back. "I'll do that, Sal, and thankee." He dug into the creamy potatoes with relish. "Your cooking's as good as your figure," he said, joining in the game. 

"Hmph," Sal said. "The both of you have been at sea too long." She blessed the day that had brought these two flatterers to her door. The three had fallen into this easy companionship almost immediately, and she enjoyed it while she could. Who knew the ways of the world? They swept people together, and then apart. So it had been with her William. Gone away aboard a King's ship, and never returned. Soon enough it would be the same with these two. 

"Dickon! Get out of that basket!" She scolded her young son without turning.

The boy pulled his hand out of the fresh biscuits guiltily. "Yes, Ma," he said and skipped out the door. 

"Those are for Doctor Codrington to take aboard, naughty child," she called after him. "Fetch those onions like I told you, boy!" She went to the hearth and basted the joint on the spit. 

Matthews grinned and picked up his tankard. "Drink up, Woods--we've got our own affairs to tend to." 

"Do we?" Woods paused, the fork in her hand. The rough stoneware clinked as she speared another bit of mutton. 

"Aye-- Mr. Hornblower has given us these." Matthews held up two tickets of leave. 

Woods stared at her messmate, the food forgotten. "Has he now? Why?" 

Matthews hid the utter bleakness the reason stirred in him. Time enough for that later. The officer was right, she deserved the choice, at least. "Because he's looking out for us. Told me there was no reason for us to lay about when nothing's needed afore morning." That much was true enough, he thought. "We're to be back by eight bells of the morning watch." He thought of being with her all night, seeing the port and its public houses. He began to feel better. Time enough for parting later. 

Oh God! Woods smiled and reached up, taking one of the tickets from his hand, forcing herself to act as if nothing was amiss. Liberty was what all of them had dreamed of, back in Indefatigable. She just wished to God it hadn't been granted in Gosport, of all places! "Best make the most of it, eh?" She began to eat again, shovelling in the food as she stuffed down the fear and apprehension that filled her at the thought of roaming the streets of home again.

Sally didn't miss any of the exchange and swiftly topped their tankards up. "Slow down before you choke, Jack. Gosport will still be there when you've done."

Woods blushed and did as she was told. "Sorry, Sal-- it's been a bit since we've been ashore." 

Sally ruffled the brown hair, smiling softly. "They don't allow your rambles ashore as they should, and more's the pity." She remembered how few had been the times she had seen William. Short, sweet reunions had been the whole of their life together, and long had been the times between. She had counted once, in the newness of her grief after he had been killed. They had had just three months together, in five years of marriage. She hoped that if ever these two married, their wives would have more of them than she had had of her own husband. 

Matthews was applying himself to his food as well, though not as heartily as Woods had been. He doubted that the fare in any of the pubs would match what they had eaten here, for Sally's food seemed an extension of her generous nature. His practical mind also realized that eating now would leave them both more money for later. 

****

Sarah and Matthews sat in a tavern in the Mumby road. It was close by the Victualling Yard at the north end of Gosport, and it was a healthy walk from the lodging house. The two seamen heard the singing as soon as they entered. 

"That's more like it!" Matthews turned a smiling face to Sarah. "About time we made a night of it somewhere!" He stepped up to the bar. "Two ales, lass!" 

The woman behind the bar smiled back. "Right enough, Jack-" 

Matthews laughed. "No, he's Jack, I'm John!" 

"And I'm Violet, so now we're through the hard part," the woman returned. She turned to the casks behind her to draw the ales. Matthews admired the sight of her as she did so. He could feel that the evening would be one to remember. 

In the meantime, Sarah turned to join in with the song. The laborers were reaching the end of "Captain Ward":

"Our guns we trained upon her, as everyone might see;  
"We'll take you back to England, and hanged you shall be."  
"Fire on ! Fire on !" cries Captain Ward, "I value you not a pin,  
If you are brass on the outside, I am good steel within!"

They fought from six that morning till six o'clock at night,  
And then the gallant Rainbow began to take her flight;  
"Go home! Go home!" cries Captain Ward, "and tell your King of me,  
If he is king upon dry land, I am king over the sea."

As the song ended, Sarah whooped her delight. "Well sung!" 

A comely man with a beard and hair the same color as new manila cordage raised his hand. "Give us another, then, Jack Tar!" 

Sarah compiled, belting out the first verse to "Spanish Ladies" By the time she had reached the chorus, the table was singing with her. 

"We'll rant and we'll roar like true British sailors,  
We'll rage and we'll roar all across the salt sea!  
Until we strike soundings in the channel of old England,  
From Ushant to Scilly is thirty-five leagues!" 

Matthews came up beside her and handed over a full tankard. Together they made their way to the table, both singing as they went. They were quite unaware of the eyes that watched them as they crossed the taproom. 

The large blond man watched the two sailors with ill-concealed jealousy. "Damned navy thinks they own the town," he growled. He picked up his tankard. "Just like that good-for-nothing little tart to think she can get away with coming back like that." 

"Tart?" The man beside him looked curiously in the direction of the two sailors. "I don't see no tart." He grinned. "Wish I did, now." 

The other man pointed at the slighter of the two. "Right there. That ain't no sailor." 

"Don't look like no girl to me," said his companion. "You sure, George?" 

"Course I'm sure!" George slammed the tankard down onto the table. "That there is my brother's filthy hoyden of a wife, and she comes back here rigged out like that! She's probably screwing the other one blind, and half the lower deck besides!" 

"She don't look like much." He took another long look. "And I never saw a girl with shoulders like that." 

George sighed and shook his head. "Jem, sometimes I think you're blind as well as a fool. I tell you, that's Sarah." 

"If you say so." Jem took a long drink from his own tankard. 

George leaned back against the wall and waited for his moment. He watched the two sailors laugh and down tankard after tankard of ale. Good. She'd be drunk as a lord when he got his chance.

Across the tavern, Sarah slapped Peter on the back. "I see ye've spent more time on shore than we have, mate! Where does a lad go fer a bit of companionship 'round here?" 

Matthews laughed until he was short of breath. Sarah looked at him angrily. 

"And what's so funny, Matty?" She wanted to be thought of as one of them—wasn’t that what all sailors did as soon as they touched shore? She ignored the fear that rose in her again. Why did it have to be Matty who knew her secret? 

Matty straightened himself up. "Nothin'" It truly wasn't, when you thought about it. What would Jack do with a tart if he got hold of one? Matthews couldn't imagine. He also knew that he didn't want one, now that he had thought the matter through. He drained what was left of his ale and called loudly for another as he remembered the promise he'd made to Mr. Hornblower. 

Sarah handed in her tankard as well, as did half the table. 

Peter considered the problem. "Your good girl is to be had in Portsmouth," he said in a professorial tone." 

"Yer bad girl, ye mean," the table roared. 

Peter looked reproachfully at his audience. "I'll thank ye to keep to the matter at hand. Our friends here have a limited time to sample the delights of our port, and the least we can do is to help them." 

"Oh, I don't think 'e needs any help! His wedding tackle's ready for the job right enough!" 

Peter looked pained. "Gentlemen! I think we're giving the lads the wrong idea of us!" 

"I don't! Take 'em ter Ginny's place!" 

"I ain't dragging the lot 'o you with us," Sarah shouted. "Ginny'd probably lock the door!" She suddenly realized that she might have taken on more than she was able to handle. If the whole table trailed after them, what would she do? 

The table exploded in laughter. 

"That she would," Peter agreed. "Half these louts have been thrown out of there at one time or another." He pitched his voice to carry to the two seaman under the noise. "And Ginny'd cost you both a bit of tin, which you do not possess, am I right?" 

"No, we don't," Matthews said meaningfully. "And we don't want ter be coming back aboard with a dose of the pox, Jack." 

"Oh, hell, Matty. Unbend, just a bit for once." 

Peter was watching the pair of them, a wide grin on his face. "I see that your friend has the sense the years will bring to you, Jack, if you allow them to." It was plain that this very young seaman had never purchased a woman's favors before. 

Matthews looked at Peter, and then back to Jack. He shook his head. "Ye go if ye like. I don't want no girl." Was that relief in her eyes? 

Sarah was shocked, as well as relieved. Her head was spinning with more than the ale. She'd never known a sailor, Matty included, to turn down even the chance at a woman. She knew that with her secret, she'd never dare to speak so. "Me back teeth are floating." Sarah headed out the back, where the privy was. She blessed him for being the one to get her out of the hole she’d dug for herself, but she had to get out of the taproom. 

George saw his chance and rose. "Jem, come on," he said softly. 

The two got up and followed after their prey. No one at Sarah’s table seemed to notice as their round of ale arrived. 

"I take it that your shipmate is young. Very young," Peter said to Matthews. 

"Aye, that he is," Matthews answered. He chuckled. "Another round?" 

"I could do with a bit more," Peter agreed. He signaled the potman.

**** 

"I see the King is forced to bad bargains of late." 

The voice sent fingers of ice down Sarah's spine. She let go of the privy door and turned around to face George Woods. "Not as bad as the bargain he might have made," she said evenly. So it had come, just as she had feared it would. She couldn't imagine a worse meeting, but she wasn't the girl George remembered any longer. He'd taken her husband from her, taken her livelihood once, and tried to take possession of her as well. She'd be damned if he'd take any more! She felt the anger burn away her fear and she knew that George had finally chosen a battle too big for him. Then she saw the other man come through the door. "What d'ye want, George?" 

George smiled nastily. "You out of those trousers, for one thing." He made a grab for her, and Sarah jumped back. She slammed into the privy door. "Me brother's wife, who makes as bad a man as she did a woman!" He grabbed her hands and slammed her up against the door. 

Sarah wriggled desperately, her terror returning. Her arms were spread wide, and George was laughing as he held her, and she realized that there was still an advantage left to her. He wasn't taking her seriously, and the look of terror that was surely on her face only made him more careless. Her legs were still free, even if George was too close to kick. No matter. She brought her knee up between George's legs. He howled and doubled over, clutching himself. 

As she stood over the writhing form of her former brother-in-law, she was seized from  
behind by his friend. It was like being clamped in a vise. He pinned her arms to her  
sides before she could do anything. She kicked back, but his grip didn't loosen. 

"Why'd ye do that to George now, girl?" Jem could feel the truth of George's earlier  
words. This was indeed no man. He grunted as she kicked back again and caught him in  
the shin. "Owww!" He pushed her forward, and slammed her head into the side of the  
privy. She stopped fighting him. He turned her around and began to pull her shirt from  
her trousers. 

"What the hell d'ye think you're about?" 

Jem whirled, dropping the girl. "Who the hell are you?" 

Matthews smiled disarmingly. "Who do I have to be?" Quick as thought, his fist lashed out. 

Jem was quicker. He ducked and charged at his smaller assailant. His shoulder smashed into him and carried him to the ground. 

Sarah stood up, shaking her head. She saw Matthews fall, wrapped around George's lout of a friend. As he struggled to get out from under the seaman, she jumped on top of him and tried to get her arm around his throat.

Matthews felt the air forced from his lungs between the large man's shoulder and the ground underneath. For a moment, he was unable to move, but as strength and breath returned, he threw himself back and kicked desperately. 

Jem twisted sideways to get rid of Sarah's sudden weight on his back, but the momentary distraction had served its purpose. Matthews managed to get his legs against the other man's chest and threw him off. Sarah went flying into the tavern wall.

George had managed to get to his feet. His rage was almost as great as the pain in his  
groin. "You bitch!" He threw himself on top of Sarah before she could get up. "I'll  
teach you manners like Paul should've done!" He struggled to hold her down and found  
that she was much stronger than he had expected. 

Sarah became a biting, kicking ball of rage. "Let me up, ye bastard!" She tore one arm out of his grasp and slammed a fist into the side of his head. As his grip loosened, she got the other arm free. She rained blows on every part of him she could reach, and took not a few in return. 

Matthews and Jem were circling each other, looking for openings and finding none. Matthews was regretting all the drinking they'd done, but there was no help for it.

"You're for it, old man," Jem said. "She ain't that pretty, after all. Share and share  
alike and we can forget all this." 

Matthews smiled savagely. "Oh, I think ye'll think different in a moment or two. Come on, show me what you're made of!" 

Jem saw his opening. He stepped forward and landed a blow to Matthews's side, and followed it with one to the head. 

Matthews fell back, shaking his ringing head. As his opponent came forward, he found his feet and landed a couple of blows of his own.

It was like hitting a slab of beef. He just kept coming. Another fist landed in his  
gut, and then his face. The ground came rushing up to hit him yet again. 

Sarah felt George weaken under her blows, and pushed him off her. He slumped against the side of the privy. She saw Matthews fall and launched herself at George's friend. 

She rammed her shoulder into his side and felt him stagger sideways. As he turned and grabbed at her, she dropped low and came up under his arms. She felt her fists sink deep into his gut, and he gasped as the wind was knocked out of him..

Matthews had managed to get to his feet, blood streaming from his nose. He joined the  
fray again. With two workmanlike blows, he finished off Jem.

Matthews stumbled slightly and put his hand out to the tavern wall. All the fight had  
gone out of him. Now he was just drunk again. Drunk and despairing.

Sarah took him by the arm. "Come on, Matty--we've got to get out of here--are ye all right?" 

He turned toward her, taking her by the forearms. He leaned his forehead against hers. Nothing had ever felt so good. For a moment he lost himself in the simple joy of touching her. Soon enough she would be gone. 

Sarah staggered back against the wall as Matthews's weight pressed on her. Damn it! "Matty? Are ye all right?" She shook him. "Curse ye for a lubberly soldier, don't pass out on me now!" The anger that had rose in her at the attack seized her again. How in Hell's name was she supposed to get them both out of this innyard, let alone back to Codrington's lodging? "Damn it, Matty--" 

Matthews pulled back at the words. Fool! He swayed a bit with the effects of the ale, but knew he could trust his feet to stay under him. It had been a long time since he'd been allowed a run ashore, and he'd be damned if he'd give Mr. Hornblower cause not to give him one again. "I'm fine, girl. Just fine." 

"What did ye call me?" Sarah's voice was low and dangerous, her eyes snapping fire. 

"I called ye what you are." A beautiful girl. So beautiful. She'd fought like a lion, and she drank like a true tar, and he'd give anything to have her in his arms and his bed. And she'd never be there. He gazed into the pools of dark fire before him, and knew it in his bones. 

"Ye bastard!" Sarah balled up her fist to hit him, but dropped her arm. What good would that do? 

"Go ahead." Matthews stretched his chin forward. In his drunken state, it seemed the best thing. If she knocked him out, then he wouldn't have to deliver Mr. Hornblower's message. He wouldn't have to watch her leave. All the secrets, all the lies--he was heartily sick of it all and no mistake! 

As the anger gave way to confusion, Sarah felt the ale settle back over her like a blanket. She swayed on her feet. Damn it! "Matty, what's come over ye?" 

Matthews struggled to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, Jack, and don't ye think it's time I knew your real name?" 

That question was the last thing Sarah had expected. For a moment she just stared at him. Then the instincts that had sustained her masquerade kicked in. "Why?" She pulled herself up to her full height. "What are ye asking for, Matty? Jack isn't good enough for ye now that we're ashore?" Did he expect her to fall into his arms now that they were both on land and drunk? Was she supposed to confess her secret passion for him, and play The Female Sailor Bold for him? 

"I wanted to bid ye goodbye by your true name," Matthews said softly. There was no avoiding it, and better it be done with now. At least he'd see her out of danger, and not risking her life every time the guns roared. 

Sarah froze. She was suddenly completely sober. "What are ye talking about?" 

"Mr Hornblower told me that it would be better if ye ran while we were ashore. He said ye'd done your duty and he'd see to it that there was no trouble." 

"Did he?" Sarah felt her world drop out from under her. "And d'ye think this is best, Matty?" 

"What I think is no matter," Matthews said miserably. 

"That's no answer," Sarah replied. 

"What would ye have me say?" He swayed on his feet again, shocked to feel tears rushing to his eyes. He shook his head, hoping she wouldn't see. 

Sarah put out her hand to steady him. She looked at the back door of the tavern nervously. "Come on, let's get out of here, Matty." 

"No, you go-- I'll be along afore morning." He needed to think, and to shake the ale from his brain. And he couldn't face the lodging house now. 

Sarah shook Matthews as hard as she could. "D'ye think I'd leave ye here? What d'ye take me for? You're three sheets to the wind, Matty!" She took him by the chin and made him look at her. The bleary stare he gave her was not encouraging. She looped an arm around his waist and put his over her shoulder. "Let's find a place to sleep." 

The inn she found was small and drab, but easy on the pockets of a couple of sailors without much to spare. She settled Matthews on the bed and pulled the blanket over him. Their blue jackets she took and spread on the floor. As she lay down on one, Matthews heaved himself to a sitting position. 

"Ye're not sleeping there, Jack." 

"Aye, I am." Sarah lay back and settled the pillow she'd taken from the bed under her head. 

Matthews wrapped the blanket around him and thudded onto the floor beside her. "Then so am I." 

Sarah sat up. "Just what are ye after, Matty?" 

Matthews sat up and put his back against the side of the bed. "A good night's sleep. And I'll not get it knowing I left a messmate to sleep on the floor while I was in a bed." He studied the wary face before him for a moment. "I'd never take anything from ye that ye didn't want to give. And I'll never call ye a girl again." 

Sarah looked at the floor, ashamed of her suspicions. Then she raised her eyes to meet his. "My given name's Sarah. Sarah Woods." 

Matthews smiled. "It suits ye." His tone was soft. 

A bitter smile quirked her lips briefly. So now he was paying her compliments? So it really was true then. He'd come to see her safely ashore. "So will ye help me get my gear, at least, Matty?" 

"What?" Matthews blinked. 

"My gear," Sarah repeated. "If I'm to stay ashore, I'll be wanting it." She watched his eyes fill with pain, just for a moment, before he dropped them. "Maybe it's best, seeing as ye agree with Mr. Hornblower." 

Matthews's head snapped back up. "I never said that!" 

Sarah smiled sadly. "Ye didn't have to." 

Matthews met her eyes. "If ye want to know what I think, then ask me. Don't be thinking ye know what I think when ye don't." 

"All right," said Sarah. "D'ye want me out of Indefatigable?" She returned his gaze and waited for his answer. 

Matthews's jaw set stubbornly. "It's not for me to decide. But no, I don't want to lose a good friend." He realized then that he didn't want her to go. He'd miss her easy companionship and her ready smile. She was always there, along with Styles and Oldroyd, to lend a hand or laugh at a joke. What an arse he'd been! What she might give him in bed was nothing to what she gave him out of it! "Jack, ye're a good shipmate. I'm happy to sail with ye as long as I can." He smiled. "And what ye keep under your clothes is no concern of mine. D'ye want to stay aboard, then?" 

"Ye know I do," Sarah said. 

"Well then, so ye shall." 

Sarah's face grew grave. "But Mr. Hornblower said--"

Matthews sat up straight. " Mr. Hornblower said that it might be better if ye ran, and that he'd make it right if ye did. He never told me that ye had to." He climbed to his feet. "So let's get what sleep we can, and tomorrow we'll report back, just as we were ordered to." 

Sarah looked up at her friend, who was swaying slightly, both from the effects of the ale, and from the fact that he hadn't been ashore long enough to get his land legs. She knew the feeling. When she stood still or sat too long, she could feel the land move beneath her. 

"Oh get up, Jack!" Matthews held out a hand. "Or are we both sleeping on the deck?" 

Sarah chuckled and shook her head. She should have known that it would be all right with Matty. She climbed to her feet. "We're sleeping in the bed." 

"Thank the Lord for that!" Matthews lay down with a satisfied groan. He held up a corner of the blanket to Sarah. "Do ye trust me?" He eyed her pleadingly. 

Sarah saw that she was being toyed with. She laughed and climbed into the bed. "Always," she said. Tomorrow could wait. 

****

Hornblower's heart sank as he saw both his seamen the next morning. Matthews simply looked uncomfortable, and if Hornblower was any judge, a bit the worse for a night of drinking. He also sported a black eye and his lip looked swollen. So their night ashore hadn't been a peaceful one. Hornblower wondered what had happened to them. Woods also bore the marks of battle in the form of a large bruise on her forehead and another high on one cheek. 

"What happened?" Hornblower looked searchingly at Matthews. 

"Sir?" Matthews was unsure whether Hornblower was talking about Woods, or his appearance. In any case, he felt far too sick to play guessing games. 

"You look as if you both took on a detachment of Marines and lost. I ask you again: What happened?" 

"This, sir?" Matthews smiled, ignoring the pain from his split lip as he did so. "Nothing, sir. A bit of a disagreement, you might say. It's all been put right now, sir." 

Three "sirs" in four sentences. Hornblower suppressed a smile. "I see you both came back as ordered, if a bit the worse for wear." 

Was there the slightest emphasis on 'both'? Sarah was sure she had heard it, and Matthews was looking at the ground. "Aye, we did, sir." She looked him straight in the eye as she spoke, almost as if she was daring him to say anything.

Hornblower did not take the bait. There was too much he did not yet know. “Well, in any case, you made your way back in good time. That is well, we have much to do this morning.” In their condition, heavy labor would be punishment enough. He clasped his hands behind his back. “Matthews, the doctor’s dunnage is in his rooms. Come with me and I’ll show you what is to be taken. Woods, Doctor Codrington’s personal stores are in the kitchen. The cart is at the door. See to it that they are loaded and join us upstairs.” Hornblower was gratified by the fear that flickered across Woods’s face, and was as quickly ashamed of taking pleasure in her discomfort. The anger he had felt at her near-insolence he also put behind him. 

As they mounted the stairs, Hornblower took his chance. "Matthews, did you speak to Woods?" 

Matthews had been dreading the question, but he knew it could not be avoided. "Aye, sir, I did," he answered. 

"Well?" 

"Well, sir, he didn't want to leave, and I didn't see as it was my place to make him." Matthews was indeed as hung over as he looked, and his discomfort made him blunt. 

Hornblower said nothing more. They climbed the stairs to the top floor, then turned down the narrow corridor. Doctor Codrington’s room was small and cheaply furnished, but it was clean. His belongings were neatly stacked against the wall next to the narrow bed. The doctor himself was nowhere to be seen. 

“Have you thought of the consequences, Matthews?” Hornblower was quietly furious, both at the thought of harm coming to a woman under his protection who had no business being in danger’s path and at the combined intransigence of the pair of them. 

“Aye, sir, that I have.” He had indeed. Before every battle he had feared to find her dead at the end, or worse, maimed and exposed for all to see. “But there’s more than one road to follow there.” 

“Is there, Matthews?” Hornblower wondered what the seaman was driving at. 

“Aye, sir. Where is she to go, if she’s not to be with us? There’s only one place for a girl with no family and no one else to keep her. ” 

“Surely there are better places than a frigate.” 

Matthews looked at his officer. “I can’t say as I could think of a one Jack’d be happy in, sir.” 

“She cannot remain on board, Matthews.” 

“Why not, sir? I don’t mind saying there are plenty of others I’d see the back of before Jack should leave us.” Matthews racked his brains, trying to come up with something that would satisfy Hornblower. 

****

Sarah descended the stairs to the kitchen, her hangover magnifying her uneasiness. Sally was bustling about, and a large basket sat on the table, obviously being packed for travel. The remains of breakfast were being cleared away by Mary, the servant girl. 

"Jack, lad! How did you find Gosport?" Sally took in the seaman's battered face. "Lord, what happened to you?" 

Sarah smiled reassuringly. "It's nothin' Sal. Just a bit of high spirits." She winked. "And we won." 

Sally dipped a rag in cool water. "You don't look it. Now sit down!" She pushed the seaman towards a seat. "Where's John?" 

Sarah did as she was told and sank down gratefully onto a bench. "He's upstairs with Mr. Hornblower, and I'm to fetch the Doctor's stores out to the cart." The cool cloth Sally was running over her face felt heavenly. For a moment, the pain in her head receded, along with the queasiness in her belly. She closed her eyes. 

"The Doctor's stores?" Sally looked confused. "Why, he's out purchasing them. There's the one basket to go, and I'm not done with that. He'll be meeting you at the quay with the rest, I heard him tell Mr. Hornblower so this morning." 

Sarah's eyes snapped open. So he *had* been trying to get rid of her! She stood up, the pain and the uneasiness returning. "Well then, I'd better help Matty with the rest of the Doctor's baggage." 

"They'll be all right without you for a bit, Jack. You look done in. Let me get you some breakfast, love." 

Sarah chucked the landlady under the chin. "Ye're a love, Sal, ye really are, and I'll be sad to go. But I can't leave Matty to do all the work while I sit down here." She headed for the door. "I'll bring him back down here when we're done." She left the kitchen and headed for the stairs. 

She heard the hushed voices as she came up the stairs and stopped to listen. She caught her name, and came closer. 

"She cannot remain in a ship of war, Matthews." 

Damn him! Sarah charged into the room. There was no way out but through. 

"Might I have a word, sir?" Woods knuckled her forehead and stood before Hornblower. 

Hornblower was surprised at the speed of Woods's appearance, but it had to come sooner or later. "Of course, Woods." 

Matthews stood uncomfortably beside the doctor's chest. Woods didn't even look at him. "Alone, if you please," she said evenly. They'd tried to decide her fate behind her back, and she'd be damned if she'd face both of them at once. 

Hornblower sighed and waved the old forecastleman away. "See to the Doctor's dunnage, Matthews. I'll deal with this." 

Matthews picked up the first load and was gone. 

"Yes Woods?" 

"I've been told that you gave me leave to go, sir," Sarah stopped there, and waited. 

"Yes, I did, Woods." Hornblower smiled gently. "You have done your duty in an exemplary fashion, but I think we both know that you cannot continue in Indefatigable forever."  
 It was happening, just as she had always feared. He'd seen his chance to be rid of her right enough. "I'm sorry ye don't think of me as a proper seaman, sir," she said. "I'm sure ye have your reasons, and a right to them as well. But if ye'd like me gone, I think I've a right to know them." She looked expectantly at Hornblower. 

Hornblower could only meet those dark eyes. He had no idea what to do or to say. Why did Woods always rob him of his wits, he thought angrily? 

Sarah realized that she should tread carefully, but she no longer cared. She could begin again just as well in another ship. Truth to tell, perhaps that would be the best thing. She would be an unknown again, and could prove herself in a place where everyone thought her a man, the same as they were. She would be free of Matty, and his knowledge of her. She never wanted a man again! Nothing but trouble, once you spent the night in the same bed with one. Looking at Mr. Hornblower, she allowed that they were sometimes trouble whether you bedded them or not. 

The thought of leaving hurt though. She'd miss all her mates, and hated the thought that they'd think she'd run. Sarah realized just how much she loved being an Indefatigable. She was a ship to be proud of, with a captain who took care of his men. She thought of all the unpaid prize money she'd be leaving behind, to say nothing of her wages! What had looked so easy and so right a moment before was no longer so attractive. She had earned a place here, damn it! She just stood there and continued to meet Mr. Hornblower's eyes. Let him say the words. 

Hornblower continued to stand there, turning over the options in his mind, looking for the piece of the puzzle that would make it all fall into place. "A ship of war is no place for a woman, Woods." 

"So ye said afore, sir," Sarah answered. 

"It is still true." 

"Why, sir?" Sarah stood her ground. "I do my duty, same as any other, and a damn sight better than some. I've caused no upset, and come to no one's notice but yours. The way I see it I've earned my place." 

Hornblower smiled gently at that. She had indeed. "Woods, this has nothing to do with your competence--"

The patronizing little smile was infuriating. Of course it wasn't. It was due to the one thing she could not change, and that had never made a difference as far as the work was concerned. "Are ye discharging me then, sir?" Her tone was barely respectful. "What reason will ye put in the muster book?" 

Hornblower paused. Why was she making this so difficult? "Woods, if you have no family to return to, a situation will be found for you--" 

Something snapped in Sarah. "A situation?" She was shouting now. "God damn ye to hell, sir! You and your "situation"! I'll make me own way, same as I did afore, and if ye turn me out of my ship, I'll find another!" She clamped her lips shut. Too late! Damn it! He'd tell Pellew everything now, and she'd be lucky to get her gear, let alone another berth! 

Hornblower looked into those frightened eyes. So there were some lines she crossed without meaning to, were there? He had never seen Woods at a loss before, had never heard her speak out of turn. God, what to do? He took a moment of refuge in silence. She had told him once before that she loved the Navy, loved the life of a seaman. If that were true, she was probably one of the few in Indefatigable who did. As he looked into the face before him, he could not help but believe it. He also believed that she would make good on her threat, and he could see no reasonable way of stopping her. "Why, Woods?" He asked the question softly, hoping that her answer would help him to a solution. 

Sarah didn't realize she had been holding her breath, waiting for him to speak, until she had to answer. She took a deep breath. "Because I know no other life, and don't wish to, sir." Sarah answered, respectfully this time. Nothing would be gained by anger, and she truly meant what she said. She knew no other course than to stand her ground. It, too, was what she had always done. 

Hornblower clasped his hands behind his back. He knew what it was to have few choices and no resources with which to change them. He had gone into the Navy as the means of making his fortune. So, it seemed, had Woods. It was sad that such a resourceful girl should have to pursue such a life as the one she had on the lower deck. Nothing but hardship and danger, and set against that, the meager wages of a sailor, and the pitiful share of prize money she might expect. "Woods, there are other ways of making your way in the world--I am sure that we might find you something far more comfortable. I will make sure of it myself before we sail." 

He would never let her stay. Damn it, why couldn't he see what was before him? "I've been a servant afore, sir. I'll never be one again." Did he have any idea what it was, to be seen and not heard, to slave from dawn to dusk in a house where no one thought of her as other than a pair of hands to do tasks they would not do themselves? She had known the freedom of the ocean and the pride that came from being part of a frigate's crew. 

"You serve in Indefatigable," Hornblower said kindly. 

"It's not the same, sir." He really didn't know. But how could he? "No matter, I see that ye've decided, and I can't blame ye, Mr. Hornblower. If I'm to go, may I ask one favor of ye?" Better to have it over and done with. She wouldn't live in fear of any man, or any officer, if she could help it. Better to part here, in a place she knew. 

Hornblower was confused. It appeared that she was willing at last to see reason, but what of the threat she had made earlier? How easy it would be to simply pass responsibility on to the next ship she tried to sign aboard--would surely sign aboard, he corrected himself. With times as they were, no captain would turn down a prime seaman who presented himself as Woods would, and he admitted that he would not have thought her to be other than what she appeared to be if he hadn't seen the truth of who and what she was. He longed to be free of the burden of lying to his captain, even by omission, but he also had a responsibility to the seaman who had done her duty and had proven her loyalty to her ship and to him. "What would you have of me?" 

"My gear, and a discharge, sir. I won't be put down as 'run'." Sarah regarded him levelly as she made her demand. "And I've wages and prize money coming to me, sir. I've earned them." No harm in asking, she reasoned. She knew that she wouldn't be going back to her shipmates, and she might as well strike the best bargain she could. The instinct of the waterman bargaining for a fare guided her, and the knowledge that she had little to lose gave her courage. 

Hornblower looked back into those determined dark eyes. A discharge would mean explanations all around, to Pellew, and possibly to others as well. A reason would have to be given, and not simply to the ship if he were to secure her money as well. What a neat little box she had put them both into! "What will you do if you get all that you ask, Woods? Will you allow me to secure you a proper place, or will you do as you said and sign aboard another ship?" 

Woods didn't waver. "I don't see as that's any business of yours, begging your pardon sir. I'll be away from Indefatigable, and I'll cause ye no trouble. Jack Woods'll be gone from the day I'm not an Indefatigable." 

"Then what does it matter how the muster book reads?" 

"I don't have much, that's true, sir. But I do have me pride and me honor. If ye try to take either from me, I'll go to Sir Edward, and the Admiralty. D'ye know of Mary Lacy, Mr. Hornblower? She served for nigh on fifteen years, and got a dockyard pension to boot. I might do as well, sir. I surely won't be going quietly, like I'd done something wrong." 

Hornblower went cold at the threat. His anger made him speak plainly. "I might remind you that I have kept your secret, even when it meant placing my own honor at risk. I deserve better than to be used so." 

"How have ye done that, sir? I can't see how my being in Indy has aught to do with yer honor." 

Hornblower smiled. "I have kept your confidence from my captain, Woods. I have allowed you to serve, even against his standing orders, and Admiralty regulations." The look of confusion on her face was worth the admission. He kept the memory of the sleepless nights and the loss of the innocence of complete loyalty to his commander close to his heart. Every officer came to this he knew, he had just been forced to it a bit sooner by the happenstance that had led Woods to be included in his division. 

Suddenly, he realized that every officer did, indeed, come to the point where he was forced to act on his own initiative. For him, the discovery of Woods had proved to be the point where he had been brought to make the decision on his own, and he had acted for the good of the ship. He knew then that his actions had, indeed, been for the good of his ship, and the good of her crew. That included Woods. She was forbidden to be where she was by the fact of her sex, but she had indeed earned her place, and she had the right, as did any man who volunteered to serve, to risk her life for her country. 

Sarah saw the change come over the officer's face, and she was chilled by it. Oh God! He had found a reason to deny her! She went over the few options left to her. If her gear was lost, she could replace it, it would take time and money, but both could be supplied. Sally would be a help, and she would earn her keep until she got what she needed. 

"You are a credit to your ship, Woods," Hornblower said. "Do you wish to continue in Indefatigable?" 

Sarah just stared for a moment. Then she spoke, seeing the lifeline she had been thrown. "Yes sir!" 

"Then you shall," Hornblower said. If he was forced to admit to his captain how he had allowed her to serve, he knew that he could answer now with a clear conscience. England was in need of every seaman she could muster. If Jack Woods had chosen to answer her country's call, and serve as well as any man, then so be it! "Now I believe that Doctor Codrington's dunnage needs to be loaded. Get Matthews and see to it." 

"Aye aye, sir!" Sarah couldn't believe it. "Sir?" 

"Yes, Woods?" Hornblower turned as he reached the door. 

"Why, sir? What made ye change yer mind?" 

Hornblower smiled. "It is as you said, Woods. You have earned your place. I will not take it from you. Now I would be obliged if you would carry out my orders." 

"Yes, sir!" 

Sarah went down to the kitchen in a daze. She found Matthews there. Sally had seated him at the table, as she had Sarah before, and she was plying him with a cool cloth and tea. God knew where she had gotten such a luxury, and why she chose to lavish it on a common sailor. 

Matthews heard her enter, and was afraid to raise his eyes to hers. It wasn't hard to fathom why she was angry, and he didn't feel up to pointing out the injustice of it to her. He'd spent all his strength pointing things out to Mr. Hornblower, if the truth were told. 

"We're to get the rest of to doctor's dunnage loaded, Matty," Sarah said. 

"I'm sure you've time for a cup of tea first," Sally said.

Sarah allowed Sally to seat her and serve her. After what she'd just been through, she felt like a struck sail. She just wanted to lie on the deck, stare at the sky, and wait to be furled. "We're to load the Doctor's dunnage," she said. 

Matthews was used to Jack's laconic ways, but after the way he had left the two of them upstairs, he needed to know more. There was Sally to consider, though. "So we're to see him safely to Indy, are we?" 

"Aye," Sarah said. "Same as ever we did." 

THE END


End file.
